


Ice

by sinkingsidewalks



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Gen, Regeneration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-01
Updated: 2013-12-01
Packaged: 2018-01-03 02:58:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1064941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinkingsidewalks/pseuds/sinkingsidewalks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eleven regeneration one-shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ice

**Author's Note:**

> These are just my thoughts on Elevens regeneration this Christmas. Sort of inspired by a poster I saw (yet can’t find again, sorry) and the idea that regeneration energy would look cool in water. Written in the middle of the night, all mistakes are mine.   
> Disclaimer: All rights reserved to the BBC

He saw it starting, saw his hands start to glow glistening gold as blackness ebbed around his vision. Last time he’d done this he’d had time. Time to go back and say goodbye to them all. Although this time there wasn’t truly anyone he could say goodbye to, his wife long dead and the Ponds unreachable. It would have been nice to give Clara some warning, he though, she would after all be the one fishing his next form out of the water, utterly confused as to why there was suddenly a new face in the old clothes, what had gone so wrong with his seemingly simple solution.   
He was losing consciousness, he knew that and his hands pressed uselessly against the ice where they had minutes ago fought desperately to break through even though it was senseless. He’d never considered drowning before. Respiratory bypass, he’d though as he’d dove into the water, make it up as I go along. It always worked, at least until it didn’t.   
It had taken him only moments to realize that he’d lost his place in the lake as he’d started swimming back to the surface. That he could no longer tell in which direction the opening in the ice lay. His palms had laid flat against the smooth surface and he’d looked around, trying to discern which direction had more light but he couldn’t tell. The day was cloudy and there wasn’t enough snow built up on top of the ice to engulf him in darkness. He’d tried a few lackluster punches and kicks to the surface before realizing that it was futile. He wasn’t strong on a good day and the water’s force negated his efforts. He’d reached for the sonic then, though he was almost positive it wouldn’t work on ice, only to remember that it had dropped into the snow, surrounded by droplets of blood, his blood. Hopefully Clara would find it he’d though, that she’d follow the blood trail, knowing it to be his and pull him out of this mess.   
Finally he’d just started swimming, picked the direction his gut wanted to go and swam. His gut had been wrong. Or at least he was pretty sure his gut had been wrong, it was that or he’d drifted much further into the middle of the lake then he’d thought, and really then all he’d have to do was keep swimming and he’d be at the exit in no time. He was tired though, his body long numb, his lungs burning, even a time lord could only take this for so long. He’d fought though, rebelled against his withering body and clung to the underside of the ice, kept pushing even though his clothes weighed him down heavily.   
He didn’t want to die. He never wanted to die but this one felt especially strong. Of course a new body would emerge from the lake but this him, the him that whose face had first been seen by little Amelia Pond, that had snogged River Song, and traveled so far with Clara would be gone forever. He didn’t want to be a new man with a new face again. He didn’t want to die, but he was going to. The edge of his mind knew the light was growing brighter, that it wouldn’t be long now, and the darkness finally enclosed on him as he began to sink. 

Clara ran. Her feet trudged through the snow and the cold air burned her lungs, making her every breath gasping. She’d found his screwdriver laying alone in the snow, surrounded by blood and had taken off, following the disappearing footprints.   
“Doctor!” She yelled into the wind. There had yet to be an answer. Her eyes stung and watered feeling over-exposed to the sharp air. Every time she spoke the words struggled and tumbled out of her mouth as her jaw tried to freeze shut, her cheeks were far past numb and the tips of her fingers and whole of her ears had already lost feeling too. She slowed as she approached the lake, taking a cautious step out onto the ice. It cracked and moaned loudly and she pulled back instinctively, looking out across it for some sign of the Doctor.   
“Doctor!” She called again, as a soft yellow light began emanating from just below the surface of the ice, swirling through the water around the dark form of the Doctor’s body. She took a step back as it slowly grew into a brighter gold, then a beam bursting through the ice and into the sky and she saw the Doctors body rigid within it. Regeneration, she knew what it was, had even met previous versions of him but she’d never witnessed the event itself. She waited, the light bursting out of him and swirling around was blinding yet beautiful. As it slowly died down she peered towards him, she could just see his new face clinging to the edge of the ice trying to heave himself up. He was older this time, his hair turning grey at the tips and his features more prominent. The old shirt and bowtie were almost laughable on this more mature face.   
She stepped forward again, carefully on the ice and asked, “Doctor?”


End file.
